


Sex Sent Me to the ER: Hades Edition II

by MsThunderFrost



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: A Weird Sort of Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Sex, Bickering, Blow Jobs, Briseis is a Nurse, Casual Sex, Hospital Sex, Humor, M/M, Patroclus is a Doctor, Pre-Relationship, Public Blow Jobs, Referenced Safeword Use, See A Doctor If You Have An Erection That Lasts Longer Than Four Hours, Sexual Humor, Sounding, sex-related injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: Patroclus is bored. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course. It’s rare for the ER to be deserted (okay, not completely deserted—there’s a little old lady in one of the rooms that’d come in a few hours earlier with heart palpitations that’s due to be discharged within the hour), and he should be grateful for the slow shift.He’s just about to stand up when the automatic doors to triage open with a grating creak. A new patient? It takes a second for him to register the fact that the new patient is bickering with the utterly forgettable man at his side (not that he can understand a word that he’s saying, considering the fact that he’s hunched over so far that his head is practically between his knees)—and by bickering, he means that the man is yelling at his patient and his patient is yelling for an entirely different reason.The patient isn’t wearing pants. Instead, he has a thin, lightly frayed fleece blanket draped over the lower half of his body, and even that seems to be a bit much on his very obvious erection. When he’d said he was bored, he hadn’t meant that he wanted to drain a cock—Especially not one that was attached to such an attractive patient.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Theseus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Sex Sent Me to the ER: Hades Edition II

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thanks to all of my lovely followers on Twitter, who said that they wanted to see MORE Hades Sex Sent Me to the ER--this time featuring doc!Patroclus and patient!Achilles. 
> 
> And thank you to Ish for suggesting dumbass patient!Achilles putting his dick on the line to make a move on his mans.

Patroclus is bored. Not that that’s a _bad_ thing, of course. It’s rare for the ER to be deserted (okay, not _completely_ deserted—there’s a little old lady in one of the rooms that’d come in a few hours earlier with heart palpitations that’s due to be discharged within the hour), and he should be grateful for the slow shift.

The coffee isn’t helping (he’s not tired, but he _feels_ like he’s tired—he’s reached that level of glassy-eyed boredom where Briseis comes by every once in a while to check and make sure that he’s still breathing). That doesn’t stop him from continuing to drink it. Pretty soon, he’ll have to put on a new pot (if he makes it, perhaps it’ll be strong enough to keep his eyes from drooping). Maybe getting up and walking around will help him to wake-up a little, and give him a chance to see the _other_ side of the empty ER. And it’ll give him a chance to see how the nurses are faring…

He’s just about to stand up when the automatic doors to triage open with a grating _creak_. A new patient? It takes a second for him to register the fact that the new patient is bickering with the utterly forgettable man at his side (not that he can understand a word that he’s saying, considering the fact that he’s hunched over so far that his head is practically between his knees)—and by bickering, he means that the man is _yelling_ at his patient and his patient is yelling for an entirely different reason.

The patient isn’t wearing pants. Instead, he has a thin, lightly frayed fleece blanket draped over the lower half of his body, and even that seems to be a bit _much_ on his very obvious erection. When he’d said he was bored, he hadn’t meant that he wanted to drain a cock—

Especially not one that was attached to such an attractive patient.

Briseis situates them in their room, before coming back to the nurse’s station, file in hand. “Pat. _Pat_.” She shakes her head, “You’re not going to believe this one. Your patient? He has a urethral sound _stuck_ in his penis.”

Patroclus blinks, “He… _what_?” He’s not all that familiar with the practice of sounding (he’s performed it in the medical context a handful of times, but he’s never done it on a sexual partner), but _anything_ stuck in the urethra would be debilitatingly painful—especially with an erection.

“He has a Van Buren inserted _all the way_ into his penis.” Briseis explains, “You know—the ones that curve.” She arches her finger in the air. “His partner realized that the toy had gotten stuck after the patient had tried to tap out, something about using too thick of a sound, too fast, with too little lube.”

“His partner is the one yelling?” Patroclus asks as he thumbs through the file.

“He’s the one who brought him in.” She says, “Apparently, he was going to attempt to drive _himself_ to the ER.” Patroclus raises a brow. That sounds like an absolutely _horrible_ idea—and not just because he has a sounding rod stuck inside of him. More screaming can be heard from the patient’s room, “Do we need to call security?”

She shrugs, “I think he just needs someone to scream at. His blood pressure is through the roof.”

Patroclus looks over the file again. Then, he passes Briseis his coffee mug. “I’m going to need a fresh cup for this.”

Briseis is more than happy to retrieve his coffee, if it means she doesn’t have to deal with their obstinate patient again. Patroclus takes a deep breath, making a mental note to never complain about slow shifts again (he’s not sure that there’s anything quite as awkward as sticking a needle in a man’s dick to drain the blood from his erection, but he’s certain that, should he continue to tempt the Fates, they’ll come up with something). He’s cursing small town ERs that only have a handful of staff on duty each night as he navigates his way to the room in question—

He knocks on the door three times in quick succession before letting himself in. The patient—Mr. Achilles Pelides, according to his triage paperwork—is still sitting in his wheelchair. It seems that Mr. Pelides is refusing to transfer onto the bed, despite his partner’s insistence that it will be much more comfortable. And by insistence, Patroclus _really_ means yelling that, if he was having so much trouble standing up, he should’ve asked the nurse for assistance before she’d left. Patroclus takes a deep breath and prepares to interject, when—

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about! I can stand up just fine.” Patroclus highly doubts that, considering he’s bent so far forward he nearly has his head buried between his knees. “And before you say _anything_ else, get your mind out of the fucking gutter. Yes, I’m flexible. No, it’s not helping.”

“Then why don’t you _sit up_ , at least, instead of trying to sniff your own sac?” He suggests. Mr. Pelides makes no move to actually try to sit up, though it’s unclear at first whether he actually cannot sit up, or he’s refusing to do so just to spite his partner.

“I quite like the view from down here.” He says. “It means that I don’t have to look at your face.”

The man’s face contorts in mock indignation, “You know, you can be a real jackass sometimes.”

“And _you_ can be a real idiot—so I think that that makes us even.” He takes a deep breath, what Patroclus can see of his face contorting with pain. “Oh… _Oh_ that was a bad idea. Holy… if you didn’t actually know how to use a sounding rod, _why did you try to shove one into my urethra_?!”

“Because you said that you wanted to try it!” He says. “I watched like… six videos on PornHub. I did my research, I knew what I was doing—”

“Clearly you didn’t, seeing as there’s a Van Buren _stuck in my fucking urethra!”_ Really, it’s kind of amazing that he can still get the air necessary to yell like that, without taking any super-deep breaths. “I swear to god, if you permanently fucked my dick—”

“I didn’t even get the _chance_ to fuck your dick.” Now, the man is pouting.

“Um…” Patroclus clears his throat. “Hi. I’ll be the doctor attending you tonight. I was wondering if I could… take a look and see what it is that we’re working with.” Mr. Pelides looks up at him, tears shining in his sea-glass colored eyes.

Gods, he cannot even imagine how much pain he must be in.

It’ll be easier, at least for now, to let him stay in the wheelchair. Patroclus sets his file down on the nearby counter, before washing his hands and sliding on a fresh pair of gloves. Then he peels back the blanket and—oh my. Yeah, that most certainly _looks_ painful. Not to mention the fact that Mr. Pelides is practically sobbing just from the sensation of the blanket dragging on his over-sensitive erection. That sound is in there _deep_ —he can barely see the tip from Mr. Pelides distended urethra.

He does his best not to put too much pressure on his erection, but even the lightest brush of his glove-clad fingers over his swollen cock seems to be causing him excruciating pain. And so he keeps his examination short. There’s no way that he’s going to be able to get to that sound while his cock is still at full mast. He’s going to need to order an x-ray to see just how deep the sound is lodged inside of him, as well as a CT scan to ensure that there wasn’t any sort of damage to his bladder…

And he’s definitely going to need to drain his cock. Fucking hell.

“Alright,” he very carefully tucks Mr. Pelides length back under the blanket. Is it bad that he’s thinking about how the cock is kind of… _pretty_? You know, aside from the fact that it’s currently perma-erect (and swollen and sensitive and _red_ ) and has a sounding rod buried inside of it…

And it’s attached to a _very_ attractive man.

“A-Are you going to be able to fix it, doctor?” Patroclus blinks. It’s certainly not unfixable, but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. Though… it likely won’t hurt any more than the pain he’s already experiencing.

“Yes. It’s definitely fixable.” With any luck, it’ll be able to be fixed without any long term damage to his urethra. Patroclus tells him that he’s going to run a couple of tests to see what it is that their working with—

“What? You mean you don’t believe me when I tell you that _this_ dumbass lost a sound down there?” He hisses, trying—and failing—to shift a little in the chair. “Couldn’t you _feel_ something thick and solid in there when you were _holding my dick_?”

“Trust me. I can tell that there is definitely something in there.” He says. “This is just a precaution, to make sure that there’s not anything more serious going on that I can’t see with my naked eye.” And then, “I can give you some medication to help numb the pain.”

“…Can you duct tape his mouth shut? That’s all the medicine that I need.”

Gods, Patroclus knows that he shouldn’t laugh. It is completely unprofessional to laugh. But the unforgettable Ken doll that Mr. Pelides had come in with certainly wasn’t standing up for himself. Besides, if he chuckles, just a little, he can easily brush it off as attempting to make his patient feel better. He snorts, attempting to hide the way the corners of his mouth quirk up by hiding his face in the crook of his arm, the snort blending (somewhat) seamlessly into a violent series of coughs.

This might just turn out to be an interesting shift, after all.

* * *

The sounding rod is removed without incident. Mr. Pelides—who, once the sounding rod had been removed and his cock had been drained, had informed him that he much preferred to be called Achilles—in a much better mood now that he is no longer in unimaginable pain, is now sitting on the bed, relaxing as Patroclus pokes and prods at his cock. The urethra is certainly still distended, but the stretching shouldn’t be permanent. Until then, he may experience some mild discomfort in his lower belly and minor swelling—

He would have to follow up with a urologist to make sure that there was no lasting damage, but…

“If you want to try sounding again,” Patroclus sincerely doubts that that’ll be the case, but he feels obligated to say something, just in case. “Make sure that you use a sufficient amount of lube, and an appropriately sized sounding rod. And if something feels uncomfortable, don’t try to wait it out.”

“Thanks.” Achilles shifts a little. “But I don’t think I’m going to be letting _anyone_ stick _anything_ in my dick for quite some time. Certainly not Theseus, at any rate.”

“You know…” Patroclus doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so bold. Perhaps it’s the sleep deprivation… Briseis never did bring him that coffee he’d asked for. “I… hope that this isn’t too bold of me to say, but… you really do deserve better.”

Achilles is silent for a long while, before conceding. “Probably. B-But… I don’t know. Theseus is easy. Relationships… real, honest to goodness relationships… they’re hard. And uncomfortable.”

“Certainly no more uncomfortable than a sounding rod pressing up against your bladder.” He counters.

“Hey! That’d actually felt kind of good—” the ‘at first’ that he doesn’t add hangs heavily in the air between them. Achilles licks his lips, “I don’t suppose that that’s you volunteering for the job, hmm?”

Patroclus blushes violently, “I-I…”

Achilles shakes his head, flashing a sad little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. It was a joke!” It didn’t sound like a joke. And he has a feeling that Achilles didn’t actually intend for it to be taken that way. “Heh, with my luck, you’re probably straight as a board—”

When asked about what happened next, Patroclus would claim that he didn’t have any idea how it happened. And, truthfully, he’s not entirely sure _why_ he bent down to capture Achilles’ lips in a gentle kiss… except for the fact that he’s been admiring Achilles ever since Briseis wheeled him into the ER several hours earlier. His long, sandy-blond hair, his ruddy cheeks, his blue-green eyes… even his cock, sore as it had been, had had Patroclus’ mouth watering from the get-go. And now that he has Achilles here, like this…

He finds that he can no longer deny his budding desires.

Patroclus is uncertain what he intends to happen when he brushes his lips over Achilles’. They’re in the middle of a _hospital_ , after all. Privacy is a rare commodity, and patients are only allotted as much as the paper-thin curtain sectioning off their room from the remainder of the ER will allow. It is easy enough to see shadows through the curtain and know exactly what it is that’s going on one of those beds. Not to mention the fact that he’d just had a _needle_ in Achilles’ _dick_ —another erection is inadvisable for the foreseeable future.

Achilles seems to have no such reservations as he breaks the kiss to offer Patroclus a lazy smile, his hand dipping down to tease the outline of Patroclus’ growing erection through the soft material of his scrubs. Patroclus moans, his entire body quaking as a full-bodied shiver nearly sends him tumbling headlong onto Achilles’ hospital bed.

It’d been awhile since he’d been with someone in such an intimate capacity, alright?

“You know…” Achilles muses, as he teases at Patroclus’ bulge until beads of pre come bubbling up through the front of his pants, “I must say, all things considered? I’m most disappointed about the fact that I didn’t get to cum.”

Patroclus’ eyes widen as Achilles’ fingers leave his cock to hook into the waistband of his scrubs, pulling them down just far enough to tease his cock out through the front of his boxer briefs. “T-That… yeah, I suppose that w-would be… oh my gods…”

Achilles shifts so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, before gracelessly lowering himself down to his knees. He tugs on the wires connecting him to the IV pole and heart monitor, anxious for just a little bit more room to work with. “Last chance to back out…”

“W-What’re you going to do?” He asks, as if he doesn’t already know.

Achilles grins, “I’m gonna have a little taste of beef cake…”

It occurs to Patroclus that kneeling on the tile like that cannot be comfortable… the thought is immediately overcome by the mind-numbing sensation of _heat_ , as Achilles wet, silken lips curl around his cock and suckle _hard_. His sea-glass colored eyes are almost eclipsed by his swollen pupils, his nostrils flaring as he takes a decisive whiff of Patroclus’ musk. And then he sinks down lower… and lower… and lower… until the head of Patroclus’ cock butts up against the back of his throat, and his nose is nestling into the sea of dark, coarse curls resting above his cock.

“Hgn… _fuck_ …” Patroclus is unsteady on his feet, and uncertain as to what he should do with his hands. If he knots his fingers in Achilles’ long, silken hair, he’s worried that he’ll start to get… well, _pushy_.

Like he said, it’s been awhile.

In the end, he uses one hand to cover his mouth, well aware of the fact that a paper curtain is going to do little to block out sound. And Achilles is already making enough sound for the both of them as he bobs his head up and down Patroclus’ length, spittle dribbling down his sculpted chin as he all-but gags on Patroclus’ cock again and again. It’s not the most skillful blowjob he’s ever received, but it’s wet and it’s messy and it’s _enthusiastic_ —and that’s doing things to Patroclus that he doesn’t quite know how to explain.

The front of his pants has begun to grow wet with spittle. He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it for the last bit of his shift without arousing suspicion (even making the trek to his locker for the spare set of scrubs he keeps on hand seems like far too great a risk. But then Achilles is reaching up and pressing his calloused fingers into the tender flesh of his sac, massaging his testes with just enough force to have him seeing stars. He doesn’t have enough time to warn Achilles of his impending orgasm before rope after rope of cum is spilling down his throat.

Achilles pulls off of his cock with a wet _pop_ , using his thumb to catch a stray bit of semen that’d begun to ooze from the side of his mouth. Patroclus stares at him for a moment, his spit-slick lips glistening in the dim lighting of the room, slightly swollen from their activities.

“You, um…” Patroclus licks his lips as he hurriedly tucks his still-twitching cock away. Achilles watches him, the corner of his mouth twitching upward at the nervous blush coloring his cheeks. “T-That… Thank you.”

Achilles breaks into a full-on grin, “At least one of us deserved to have a ‘happy ending’ tonight, yeah?”

“R-Right.” Patroclus swallows hard, “Your, um… Your discharge paperwork is right over there. You just need to sign it, and then you can be on your way.” He says. “Nurse Briseis will be in to collect it s-shortly—” He scurries off before he’s even finished talking, racing back to the relative safety of the nurse’s desk.

* * *

A short while later, Briseis returns with Achilles’ completed discharge paperwork—along with the cup of coffee that he’d asked for _hours_ ago. She has a smug little smile on her face as she sets both in front of him. He’s about to ask her what her problem is, when she flips over to the bit directing Achilles to see a urologist within a week of being discharged to make sure that there was no lasting damage to his urethra. On the back of the form is a small note, written it what could only be described as chicken scratch.

_To my very ‘hands-on’ doctor…_

_You ran off before I could give you this. Don’t worry, I’m not insulted. Of course, I will_ definitely _be insulted if you decide not to call me._

_XOXO, Achilles_

Just underneath that is his phone number. Patroclus stares at it for a moment, unblinking.

“Guess you had a pretty exciting night after all, eh boss.” Briseis snorts. Patroclus takes a picture of the note with his phone, before running the paperwork through the shredder to destroy the evidence.

He supposes that it’d been a pretty exciting night, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter [@MsThunderFrost](https://twitter.com/MsThunderFrost)


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